Chapter 63
Julia
But none of it is helping with the pit in my stomach.
Scottie wheels up to the table, and Kayla slides into a chair across from me. Both of them look suspiciously cute for people who supposedly woke up hungover.
“Okay, before you even try to pretend this is a normal lunch,” Kayla says, tossing her purse down, “your text sounded like a cry for help.”
“It wasn’t a cry for help,” I lie. “I just wanted to see you guys.”
Scottie lifts a brow. “C’mon, Jules.”
“Okay, fine.” I laugh, but it’s a weak one. “Maybe it was a little cry for help.” I wrap my hands around the mug in front of me like it might anchor me to the earth. “Not sure if you noticed…but Ace and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
Both of them blink at me.
Then they laugh. Hard.
Scottie points a fry at me. “Girl, we noticed.”
“The tension between the two of you for the past month and a half could power the entire New York electrical grid.” Kayla’s shaking her head. “So…what happened between you guys?”
My cheeks burn, but I find the courage to lay it all out there.
Some of this, I’m sure Scottie already knows because of Finn, but Kayla is most certainly in the dark.
“Right after he became Double C prez and I agreed to be Drew’s girlfriend, Ace kissed me and told me he loved me.
He also told me all this crazy shit he’d been doing to be closer to me. Really insane kind of stuff.”
“Whaaaaa?” Kayla chimes in with wide eyes. “And what did you say to him?”
“I basically told him it was too late.”
“Oh shit,” Scottie mutters.
“I know.” I sigh. “But in my defense, I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for Ace.”
“Wait…you’ve been secretly pining for him all this time?”
I sigh again. “Cat’s outta the bag.”
They both go quiet.
“Everything just got so…complicated. And now I think I messed everything up.”
“Does Drew know you have feelings for Ace?”
“I don’t think that matters because I broke up with him last night.”
Kayla lets out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. No wonder you texted us.”
“Do you want to be with Ace?” Scottie asks.
“Yes. But mostly, I want my best friend back.”
“You do know that Ace isn’t dating anyone, right?” Scottie adds.
I blink. “Oh, come on. I saw him with Scarlett last night.”
Scottie snorts. “Last night? Seriously? The only person Ace went home with last night was himself. I was there. Hell, I haven’t seen Ace with anyone since, like, early June, Jules. And I’m pretty sure Scarlett went home with Seth Maddox.”
Kayla groans. “Who is, like, stupid hot but also a total sleaze. So I guess they’re kind of perfect together.”
I stare at them.
I mean…really stare.
Because somehow, I’d convinced myself that Ace left the party and went straight to bed with Scarlett. I saw them together, so it must’ve meant something. But now I’m realizing that might’ve been…fear. Insecurity. Projection.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, voice catching in my throat. “I know Ace didn’t handle shit well, but I think I’ve been a bit of an asshole.”
“No,” Kayla says immediately, reaching for my hand. “You’ve been confused. And scared. And trying to protect yourself. That doesn’t make you an asshole. I mean, we’ve all seen the ladies’ man that Ace Kelly has been since he set foot on campus freshman year.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “But I still hurt him. And I didn’t mean to.”
Scottie nudges a plate of fries toward me. “Eat something before we get deep into this emotional spiral. You’re going to need the carbs.”
I smile faintly and take one, but the moment’s already slipping. My thoughts are spiraling fast.
I’m back in that hospital room. Ace kissing my forehead and carrying me in his arms.
I’m back at the Beckley Theater, watching him laugh with someone else while I fall apart inside.
“I don’t know if I can fix it,” I murmur.
Kayla squeezes my hand. “You can.”
“Trust me, Julia, you can,” Scottie says. “Ace loves you. To the point of madness. You just need to tell him how you feel.”
“Oh! You should do it tonight! At the Gamma Pi Halloween party they moved because they were fucking scared everyone was going to the Double C thing last night!” Kayla exclaims, and they launch into a conversation about the party—apparently someone’s older cousin is DJing and there’s a rumored confetti cannon—but I barely hear them.
Because I’m stuck on one and only one thing—how can I get my best friend back?
We split the check and say our goodbyes outside Zip’s, but I linger for a second on the sidewalk after Scottie and Kayla disappear around the corner, both already talking about outfits for the party tonight.
I should go home. Do laundry. Wallow.
Instead, I pull out my phone and text the one and only person I want to talk to right now.
Me: Are you busy?
Her reply comes two seconds later.
Mom: Currently in the city. Crashing one of Cassie’s photo shoots in Central Park. She’s taking photos of Theo Damon.
Mom: Wait. Is something wrong?
Me: No, but I think I’ll swing by to see you. Is that okay?
Mom: Julia, sweetheart, of course that’s okay. We’re at the Mall. It’s shut down for the shoot.
I shove my phone in my purse and head to the nearest subway stop. And I have to ride the train for six stops before I reach Central Park. By the time I’m back on the sidewalk and in the rush of people, it only takes me another ten minutes or so to reach the park’s famous entrance.
It’s surreal walking through the closed-off stretch of Central Park. The Mall looks like a movie set, all curated lighting and fashion chaos. There’s a makeup tent. Stylists with clipboards. Cameras on dollies. Security.
And there, right in the middle of it all, is my mom holding a cup of coffee and chatting animatedly with someone holding a reflector.
When she spots me, her brows furrow, and she waves me over immediately.
“Julia? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say when I reach her, and she sets the coffee down on the bench.
“Honey. I wasn’t born yesterday. I can tell something’s wrong.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Well, my very independent college girl who sometimes forgets to call and text me back tracked me down in the middle of Central Park…” She eyes me knowingly. “I think it’s safe to say something’s going on.”
I let out a deep exhale. “Mom, I think I messed everything up.”
Her face softens. “Messed what up?”
“I broke up with Drew.”
“Drew?” She blinks. “Who’s Drew?”
I laugh weakly. “The guy I was dating.”
“Ohh. The one from the hospital? Right, right. I don’t know why I thought his name was Chad. Cassie is always calling him that.”
I half laugh, half sigh, but before I can say anything else, a familiar voice cuts through the chaos.
“You broke up with Chad?”
Cassie Kelly has her camera slung around her neck and is walking over, hair up in a messy bun, oversized sunglasses perched on her head like a crown. Behind her, the celebrity being photographed is literally waiting. But Cassie’s focused entirely on me.
“Drew,” I correct on a sigh. “His name was Drew.”
Cassie waves a hand. “Whatever. It’s about fucking time.”
My mom’s eyes go wide. “Cassie!”
“Don’t act surprised. That boy had placeholder energy.” Cassie shrugs. “Tell me I’m wrong.” Then she looks at me. “And tell me you broke up with Chad because you realized your heart wants someone else…”
“I’m in love with Ace.” I blurt it out, and Cassie whoops in excitement.
“Well, it’s about time you realized,” my mom says like she’s known all along. Which, apparently, is the story of my life when it comes to Ace. While she’s smiling sweetly, she also mutters, “Poor Kline.”
“I just…don’t know what to do now. I feel like my life is a clusterfuck,” I say, voice smaller than I mean it to be. “Ace and I aren’t talking. And I don’t know how to fix it.”
Cassie tilts her head, assessing me the way she probably does her photography subjects. “There’s a Gamma Pi party tonight, right?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “How do you know about that?”
“Because I’m Cassie motherfucking Kelly,” she says, smiling. “I know everything.”
“I don’t even know if Ace is going to be there,” I tell her the same thing I told Kayla and Scottie when they told me it would be the perfect place to talk to Ace.
Cassie smirks. “He’ll be there.”
“How do you know?”
She pulls off her sunglasses and points them at me like a mic drop. “Again, because I’m Cassie motherfucking Kelly, that’s why.”
My mom groans but also laughs. “Remember that Halloween where you and Ace dressed up like Sandy and Danny from Grease?”
I nod, my chest squeezing. “Of course I do. It’s Ace’s favorite movie.”
“You looked amazing,” my mom says.
“You did,” Cassie agrees, eyes twinkling. “And if you’re serious about wanting to fix things with my son…” She leans in. “I’ve got a pair of fantastic leather hot pants at home you could borrow. Just saying.”
Before I can answer, a deep voice from the direction of the camera setup calls out, slightly bewildered. “Uh…Cassie? Are we still doing this? Or…?”
We all turn.
Theo Damon. As in, the Theo Damon. Star of Criminal Bloom, The Stolen Coastline, and that one rom-com everyone was obsessed with last year.
He’s standing in front of the lighting set in a perfectly tailored navy coat, wind machine going, brows furrowed in mild confusion. He’s movie-star handsome with the kind of jawline that could slice a watermelon.
Cassie waves at him like he’s a mildly annoying extra. “Just stand there and look pretty!”
He blinks. “Okay…cool.”
Then she turns right back to me and my mom as if nothing happened.
I glance between her and Theo freaking Damon, stunned. “Did you just…”
Cassie shrugs, nonchalantly adjusting her camera strap. “You know, Jules,” she says casually, “those leather hot pants I mentioned really deserve an encore.”
I can’t decide if this is the best or worst idea I’ve ever had, but I decide I need to do it. I need to show Ace that not only am I sorry for how everything has gone down, but that I’m all in when it comes to him.
By the time I’m back at my apartment building—after a quick pit stop at the Kellys’ penthouse to get Cassie’s leather hot pants—my entire body is vibrating with nervous energy.
But when I unlock my door and step inside, my feet kick something on the floor.
It’s a white envelope, and my name is written on the top of it in handwriting I’ve known for what feels like my whole life. Handwriting I’ve seen change over the years from messy and unreadable to scribbly and sharp.
My hands shake as I open it.
Julia,
There are so many things I want to say to you. So many things I need to say to you. Honestly, I’ve tried. I’ve written so many unsent texts and emails to you, it’s not even funny.
I’m sorry for how I handled shit. I’m sorry for all the wild situations I put you in because I didn’t have the balls to tell you that I’m in love with you.
I’m sorry for that night I came home drunk and didn’t tell you about Double C and made you think I was out with some random girl. I wasn’t, by the way. Frankly, Julia, I can’t fathom the thought of being with another girl who isn’t you.
I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel manipulated and violated. God, the mere thought of that makes me want to vomit. That’s the last thing I want you to feel.
And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I took you for granted throughout our friendship. If I made you feel like you were the girl on my sidelines. If you felt like you were some kind of backup plan.
I can be fucking self-involved and self-absorbed and selfish, and I can see how those piss-poor qualities could make you feel all the things you did. I took for granted that you were always there. Not because I didn’t care, but you were a given for me. You were always it, Julia.
You’re still it for me. You’re still the love of my life, even if it’s not reciprocated on your end.
In my mind, no one compares to you. No one is more important than you.
I know you’re with Drew now. I know you’re in a relationship that’s possibly getting serious, and I’m not trying to ruin something if it’s making you happy.
Because Julia, I really, truly want you to be happy.
I wish more than anything I could be the guy who makes you happy, but I’ll gladly take you being happy with someone else if it means you’re safe and protected and content.
I miss you. I miss us.
I miss my best friend. And I hope one day she’ll be able to forgive me.
I hope one day that she’ll want to be my best friend again.
I know it’s not much, but I’ve been working really hard to learn where to put commas and asking myself the hard questions the old me would never ask.
The one question that comes up every day is simple: “Do you love her, Ace?”
And the answer is always the same.
“More than myself. More than existence. More than the stars.”
I hope one day, when you ask yourself the hard questions, your answer says you love me too.
Love, Ace
Tears fill my eyes and hope blooms in my chest.
Maybe we’re fixable after all.